


The Writer's Nightmare

by Eravalefantasy



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Drabble based on late nights, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 09:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6278629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eravalefantasy/pseuds/Eravalefantasy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble written after late nights and long conversations with Replica_Jester.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Writer's Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Replica_Jester](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Replica_Jester/gifts).



         Alistair was . . .

“Alistair was what? How does he feel at this point? What was he doing? I guess I should read that last chapter again. I could have left him milking a cow for all can remember.” She said aloud. The writer picked up her phone and read the time: 3:47 am.  “When did I start? Was it last night? Have I slept yet?”

A male voice laughed. “Did you think you left me milking a cow in the last chapter? Someone’s tired.”

_This is why I am still awake. This bastard will not shut up in my head. I keep hoping one more paragraph and he’ll stop. But that’s just it! It’s never just one more paragraph. Its pages and most of it no one will ever read!_

“You know I can still hear you right – being imaginary and all. I could sit here and sing a little tune if I wanted. But I won’t . . . this time.” Alistair laughed.

She rubbed her face and put her head down.

Another voice rang out in the silence of her room. “The proper thing to do, your Majesty is be sympathetic and understanding. At least, I believe so.”

Alistair sighed. “I’m not King yet, Cullen. You’re still locked in the tower in Ferelden, I think.”

Cullen sat down on the work table. “No, you’re mistaken. In my story, you are King and I lead the Inquisition's army.”

Alistair tapped the writer on her shoulder. “I don’t want to be King. Couldn’t you make me live happily ever after with what’s-her-name?”

Cullen nodded. “The Hero. Well, you could live happily except for the taint; it will get you both in the end, unless there is a cure, of course. Can’t forget that.” Cullen laughed.

Alistair was shocked. “Who is the Hero? What taint? So I get the girl but die a tragic death? How does he know all this?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes, tragic death, but not yet. I believe she started your story in the past few days. The last one of mine she finished a month ago, which is exactly why I am here. I need to do something with my time. Something modern or dark would be a nice change for me. I’ve grown quite weary of tortured and noble . . . and elves. Not that they aren’t lovely, but perhaps a challenge?”

Alistair looked at Cullen and then the writer. “Hey! Why is it he can get a story like that and I can’t?”

“She likes me better than you. Pardon me, but you have both a comma and period at the end of the fifth sentence. You might want to change that; you know how you worry so when you miss punctuation.”  Cullen offered.

“Oh, really, she likes you better than me?  Wait. He’s right. Also, two sentences from there . . . the word is ‘tree’, my dear, not ‘twee’.” Alistair continued. “So you don’t die?”

The writer pounded her head on the desk. “Please both of you shush.”

“Everyone dies Alistair, but not in my story. An addiction to lyrium is all I contend with and I supposedly go from painfully awkward to a sex god in fifteen chapters.” Cullen continued. “I’m hoping for something a bit more thought out actually. A well designed plot – the sex is fine, it’s a nice distraction, and I would like something to do other than stand around and wait.”

“If you both do not stop talking I will put the two of you together!” The writer warned.

“I have no problems with it at least it’s something different.” Alistair agreed.

Cullen pondered the idea for a moment. “Why not, I would welcome such a change.  At least it’s not another elf…oh wait. No, it's fine, go ahead. We’ll wait.“

The writer sat up. “What? I can’t write that!”

“You shouldn’t have offered.” Alistair complained.

Cullen agreed. “Quite right.”

The writer sighed. “That’s it, I am done.” She closed her laptop and yawned. “Let me sleep for a few hours, please?”

Alistair and Cullen looked at each other and back at the writer and nodded in agreement.

“So Cullen, what did you mean about the elf thing a few minutes ago?”

Cullen rubbed his neck. “It’s not important. Besides, I’ll wager she’ll be up in two or three hours to start again anyway.”

_Maybe I should try writing Blackwall._


End file.
